January 23rd 2017
Scarlett
It was the first day of shooting, and even though I had no scenes to shoot, I was still required to be on set. Checking the schedule, I noticed that Ray had a dress rehearsal with Lizzie and Paul Bettany at midday, and I didn't recall having seen her at all that morning. She didn't seem like the kind of girl to forget about it, but I had no clue where she was.
"Scarlett!"
I turned to see Joe coming towards me.
"What's wrong?" I asked, seeing his brows were furrowed.
"Have you seen Ray?"
I shook my head.
"Jesus christ, she's got a dress rehearsal in 30 minutes and she's not even here," Joe said irritably.
"I can go look for her," I offered.
He nodded.
"If you find her, tell her to go to hair and makeup. They're waiting for her."
I watched Joe quickly walk away. I couldn't imagine the stress he was under, being one of the directors for a movie as huge as this.
My gut told me to search for Ray in her trailer. I headed towards it and knocked on the door.
"Ray, you in there?" I called through the door.
Ray replied, "Coming!"
I heard some clattering, but after a few seconds she arrived at the door. Her eyes looked slightly puffy and red.
"Have you been crying?" I asked.
"No," Ray replied. "I just poked my eye."
I nodded, unconvinced.
"You need to go to-"
"Rehearsal, I know, I'm sorry," Ray cut me off, disappearing behind her door briefly.
"You knew that you had to go," I told her. "Right?"
Ray re-appeared with her script, an irritated look on her face.
"I lost track of time," she replied sharply, closing and locking her trailer door behind her.
I followed the girl as she stalked away towards the dress studio. Even though I hadn't spoken, she suddenly turned to me and snapped, "Stop acting like I'm a little kid that can't look after herself!"
"I'm not!" I swiftly replied, getting annoyed with her sudden outburst. "I'm just making sure you're okay!"
"I don't know what you're trying to get out of me, cause it won't work!" Ray snapped.
"There's obviously something wrong and it's clearly bothering you! I saw how thin your arms were, I've seen the bruises!"
"What's it to you anyway?" Ray demanded. "You have your own kid to worry about, so stop worrying about me!"
I felt stung, but replied with, "Ray, just because I have my own child doesn't mean I'm that busy with her that I can't notice when something is wrong with somebody I work with!"
"I'm not getting abused!" Ray yelled. "What is your issue with leaving me the hell alone?"
She turned and left me stood on the concrete parking lot, just at the edge of where all the trailers were. I was taken aback by her words and aggression. However, it was her last retort that was making my head spin. "I'm not getting abused!" It sure as hell seemed like she was.
~~~✸~~~
Ray
Why had I said all that? What was going through my stupid head?
"Ray!"
I was pulled from my thoughts by Elizabeth.
"It's your turn," she told me.
"O-oh."
I looked down at my script and saw how much the words were jumping about. I was usually really good at remembering my lines - when I could even read them - but I could barely even read this particular line. I just stared at the paper, eyes squinted slightly.
"What's wrong?" Paul Bettany asked.
I rubbed my eyes roughly with one of my fists and looked back at the paper.
"I can't read this shit," I muttered.
"Huh?" Paul asked.
"My eyes aren't fricking working!" I said through gritted teeth.
"What do you mean?" Lizzie asked.
"They just aren't working," I replied.
Lizzie approached me and took the script from my hands. Her brows visibly furrowed when she saw the line I was supposed to read. It was only a few words, which was even less excusable.
"Do you have dyslexia?" the woman asked, glancing at me.
"What's that?" I questioned.
I didn't fail to notice Paul and Elizabeth share a look.
"It's where words can jump and move around the page," Paul explained. "Some people need coloured filters to help stop the jittering of the words."
I thought about it for a minute. So that's what was wrong with me.
"How do you read at school?" Lizzie asked curiously.
I bit my lip and hesitated. It wasn't just me then; by the sound of it. But I still didn't feel comfortable telling anybody.
"I'm fine," I lied, avoiding eye contact. "I can read, I'm not dyslexic, I'm not fucking broken!"
I really couldn't read the page at that moment. I couldn't admit to being broken. If I did, I'd probably get fired for causing problems or some shit like that. I needed to be perfect. I needed this job. I needed the money or I'd end up on the streets.
"Let's have a break," Elizabeth suggested. "Back in half an hour?"
"Yep, sure," Paul agreed. "I haven't eaten since breakfast."
I simply nodded and quickly left. Keeping my head down, I went straight to my trailer where behind the locked door, I broke down in tears. My script fell from my hand and I sat with my back against the door, sobbing ceaselessly. Ray you're so damn weak! You can't even read! Your stepdad was right! You don't deserve this job! These critical thoughts were all that echoed around my head for god knows how long.
~~~✸~~~
After finally pulling myself together, I checked the time. I was shocked to see that I'd been crying for almost half an hour. I grabbed my script and checked my eyes. They were red and puffy and I irritably sighed. Scarlett had already seen me after crying earlier. I knew she didn't believe my half-hearted lie, and if she saw my red eyes again, she wouldn't lay off me. Pacing around my trailer, I looked at the untouched pile of schoolwork on the counter-top. You'd better do that later. Sighing, I quickly flicked through it. I had a week's worth of work for each subject I'd usually have that week - due in Friday.
I checked the mirror again. My red eyes had subsided. I decided I should get back to set for the rehearsal before Lizzie and Paul thought I'd gone AWOL.